Twice as Good. Alison Roberts

again. ‘It must be something in the air around here. You’d better watch out, Jamie.’

      Both men were looking at Janet who promptly dropped the tin of jellymeat onto her foot and swore effectively. Thoroughly flustered, she muttered a lame excuse and rushed out of the staffroom. Not before she’d heard Jamie chuckle.

      ‘Not me, Oliver. I’m totally immune, thank God.’

      She could hear the two doctors following her down the hallway. ‘This is Josh’s room, Jamie. It’ll be the one you’ll be using for consultations. Have a look around. I’d better see my first patient but I’ll catch up with you again in a few minutes.’

      Janet closed the door of the treatment room behind her. She leaned against it, drawing in a deep breath.

      Smoothing the skirt of her uniform against her legs, she noticed that her hands were trembling. She took another deep breath and let it out very slowly. Totally immune, was he? What had happened to the great romance between him and Sharlene? Or was he immune because he was happily married? Janet shuddered. Did she really want to find out?

      No. Janet sat down at her small desk and reached for the computer printout. She unhooked the wall phone and placed it beside the list of patient names and phone numbers. Mrs Coombs was first. Her blood test had revealed severe anaemia. Oliver wanted her to come in for a series of iron injections and Janet needed to make the first appointment. She picked up the receiver and then replaced it as she heard a knock on her door. Sandy probably required some assistance.

      ‘Come in,’ Janet called cheerfully. Poor Sandy had already coped with quite enough today. Janet had no intention of letting her know how disturbed she now felt herself.

      The door opened and then closed again. But it wasn’t Sandy now standing close to her desk. It was Jamie McFadden.

      ‘I get the distinct impression you’re not very pleased to see me,’ Jamie stated without preamble. ‘Maybe it would be better if I didn’t stay.’

      ‘You have to,’ Janet informed him grimly. ‘We’ve already been let down by one locum. This is a very busy practice. Oliver can’t possibly cope by himself and God knows when the agency would be able to come up with another locum.’

      ‘He’s not by himself. He has his wife working with him.’

      ‘Sophie’s a GP registrar. She’s due to fly to Wellington tomorrow to sit her written exams. She’ll be away for two days. She’s also pregnant and suffering from severe morning sickness.’

      Jamie’s eyebrows lifted sardonically. ‘You’re right. This is a very busy practice.’

      Janet ignored the innuendo. ‘Of course, it’s entirely up to you. It is somewhat of a challenge, I agree.’ Her glance accused him of making a habit of running away from difficult situations. The glance was a test, given unconsciously. Did the telepathy still work both ways?

      James McFadden’s mouth tightened. Bingo! Janet felt suddenly calmer, as though a measure of control had landed back in her court.

      ‘I wouldn’t call it a challenge, exactly,’ Jamie said thoughtfully. His gaze held Janet’s firmly. ‘Maybe we could see it as more of an opportunity. What happened between us would have to be considered ancient history by now. Maybe it’s time to forgive and forget.’ Jamie’s smile was conciliatory.

      ‘Even ancient history can leave a lasting impact on some people,’ Janet said coolly. She could feel her heart pounding. Another opportunity with Jamie McFadden was the last thing she needed. The last thing she could possibly want. ‘It’s only for six weeks,’ she said tightly. ‘I’m sure we can cope.’

      ‘But do you want to?’

      ‘Yes, I do.’ Janet fixed Jamie with a determined stare. ‘I have an immense loyalty to this place and to these people. This is my life now, Jamie, and it’s all I have. I’m not going to let some incident from my past create or add to the difficulties we’re already experiencing.’ Janet wished she could stand up to emphasise her determination, but even at her height of five feet seven she would still have to look a long way up to maintain eye contact with James McFadden. ‘St David’s is in desperate need of a locum GP. They’re very difficult to come by at present and we’ve already lost one. I imagine the agency would tell us we’re very lucky to get you.’

      The second knock on the door was more urgent than Jamie’s had been. Sandy looked agitated as she poked her head into the room without waiting for a response.

      ‘Mrs Neville has just jammed her finger in her car door.’ Sandy sounded alarmingly close to tears again. ‘There’s blood all over the place!’

      Janet was on her feet instantly. She grabbed a dressings pack from the cupboard above her head without pausing. She brushed past Jamie McFadden. Mrs Neville was standing beside the reception counter. Her eyes were shut tightly and she was moaning loudly. Her uninjured hand gripped the wrist of the other. A mangled fingertip was bleeding freely onto the counter. Janet covered it with a large gauze pad and put her arm around the groaning woman supportively.

      ‘Come with me, Mrs Neville. Let’s get you sitting down and see what the damage really is.’

      Somehow she wasn’t surprised to find Jamie still in the treatment room. He had donned surgical gloves, poured some Betadine into a kidney bowl and opened another pack of dressings.

      ‘Mrs Neville, is it?’ he queried. His smile was professional. Reassuring. ‘I’m Dr McFadden. Sit down here and show me what you’ve done to that poor finger.’ His glance at Janet a minute later was equally professional. ‘Draw up some lignocaine, will you, please, Janet? I think we’ll put a nerve block in while we sort this out.’ He turned back to his patient. ‘It’s pretty painful, isn’t it?’

      ‘Oh, yes, Doctor,’ Mrs Neville gasped. ‘I can’t bear to look. Have I … have I cut my finger off?’

      ‘Och, nothing like that,’ Jamie assured her. ‘You’ve squashed the top a bit, that’s all. We might need to remove the nail and put a stitch or two in the back. Nothing we can’t cope with.’ He looked across at Janet as she held an ampoule upside down, sucking the contents out with a needle and syringe. ‘Is it, Janet?’

      ‘No, Dr McFadden.’ Janet’s tone was calm as she handed him the dose of local anaesthetic. She held out the empty ampoule as well so he could confirm the medication. ‘Nothing we can’t cope with.’

      Mrs Neville looked reassured, happily oblivious to the deeper meaning of the exchange. By the time her finger was cleaned up, stitched and dressed, the middle aged patient was clearly smitten with St David’s latest staff member.

      ‘We’re becoming a regular United Nations here,’ she told him proudly. ‘The last locum was an Indian lady and now we have you. I do love your accent.’

      ‘You should be used to a bit of a burr.’ Jamie sounded surprised. ‘I understand Janet’s been here for years.’

      ‘Oh, but that’s different. And your accent is so much stronger!’

      Janet dropped the needles and the scalpel Jamie had used to tidy the edges of the wound into the sharps disposal container. Mrs Neville had been enamoured of Oliver ever since she’d started coming to St David’s. Now her allegiance was clearly being transferred without difficulty. She threw a sidelong glance at the object of Mrs Neville’s admiration in time to catch the cheeky, small-boy grin.

      Janet closed her eyes for a split second against a wave of despair. That grin! She saw it a dozen times a day on the faces of her sons. She had always loved it and the two little ratbags knew it was the second best way to get around their mother. The best way, of course, were the cuddles and declarations of love. Worked a treat almost every time—especially if accompanied by that cheeky grin. Did she love the facial expression because she loved her sons so much? Or was it because it had subconsciously linked them to the first great love of her life?

      Could she